


Static Equilibrium

by airgloweffect



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Alternate Universe - Police, Brad is emotionally constipated, Crime, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Maybe OOC, Racist Language, Ray is awesome but hard to write, self discovery, two idiots in love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:01:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27077683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/airgloweffect/pseuds/airgloweffect
Summary: Detective Nate Fick, moves across the country after heartbreak and divorce, looking for a fresh start. What he doesn't expect was the man who was to be his new partner: Brad Colbert. The deeply wounded man is an enigma, wrapped up in anger and sarcasm. Nate reels from their first meeting, but is determined to get Brad to trust him.  Working through the tough case together, they find something in each other and begin to heal, but neither expected to fall in love.
Relationships: Brad Colbert/Nate Fick
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	Static Equilibrium

**Author's Note:**

> Oh boy! I am excited and nervous to begin this story. I adore this fandom and wanted to contribute something, but I am concerned about pulling off Brad and Ray. They have a certain style of speaking, but regardless I hope people find this enjoyable nonetheless.

_ "Hey George, are you gonna get ya ball out of the rough ya pussy? You swing like a girl!" _

_ "Fuck you, Frank! You distracted me, you cheating bastard!" _

_ Frank barked a laugh; he enjoyed ribbing his long time friend and any chance to take that he couldn't resist. The man was going through a nasty divorce, to a right bitch of a woman, who was taking him to the cleaners. He thought a good day out on the golf course was a break he needed. And him, as much as he loved Nancy to the moon and back, that woman could at times get on his nerves mostly when she went to town on him about not cleaning out the gutters. _

_ He leaned against the golf cart and swiped his brow with the back of his hand. It was hot out and right about now he wished he had a glass of ice-cold sweet tea. He didn't know what the drink was, other than maybe that tea was in it, but damn it really hit the spot on a hot day. _

_ He looked around, where the hell did George go? He couldn't see his friend, and he wasn't really paying attention to the direction he went in. Sweat beaded his forehead again, and he could feel it run down the middle of his back. Just as he was about to contemplate yelling out for George, he saw the man stumble out of the copse of trees, looking pale and drawn. Something that flickered behind his eyes made Frank stand up straight, something was very wrong. He haphazardly thrust his prized golf clubs off the side, not watching what he was doing and he heard the heavy clunk as they hit the ground. Not caring to stop and pick them back up, he hastily ran over to his friend- as much as he could- he was a man on the larger side of life.  _

_ "George!" he reached out, managing to grab a hand full of George's red polo shirt, which helped slow down the man's descent onto the grass. George sunk his short blunt nails into Frank's arm fear laced with sheer panic emanated from his expression. Frank wondered in combination with his laboured breathing if George had a heart attack. Th-there...ther-..." George closed his eyes and sucked in deep breathes. "Hey man, just take it easy then tell me", he rubbed his friend's back. He felt weird doing it, Frank wasn't one for touchy feelings, but this disturbing behaviour set him on edge. _

_ He jolted back in surprise as his friend lunged forward yanking the collar, he would never admit it, but right now his friend was scaring him. _

_ "Fr- frank there's a body." _

_ He was dumbstruck. "A body?" he parroted. _

_ George frantically nodded. _

_ Frank shakily stood, his knee's creaking. He took a few unsteady steps like a newborn chick taking its first steps. Dread pooled in his stomach, and he could taste bile. This was not how he expected his day to go. He almost didn't want to do this, but part of him knew he had to see. Then call the police and never think about it again. He heard buzzing- loud buzzing. He had watched plenty of police procedurals before, to know that that wasn't a good sign. _

_ He rounded a tree that had a large bush growing next to it and what he saw stopped him in his tracks. He covered his mouth and nose with his hand, trying to hold off the horrible smell. The body was half-covered in flies; his eyes of their own volition meandered up the face. The mouth was gaping, flies going in and out, the eyes, open as well staring vacantly. However, despite the gruesome display, his brain somewhere in the depths of his subconscious recognized the man. He couldn't take it anymore, he turned and vomited, just scarcely missing his shoes. _

_ ******** _

_ Damn it was hot. _

Nate was sweating already, although it wasn't just because of the heat. It was also nerves because it was his first day starting at a new precinct.

Talk about hostile working conditions.

He remembers the glares and the stares ( _ the icy blue orbs that promised retribution for what he didn't know _ ) when he had to drop by the station to collect his passes and sign the final paperwork. There was an undercurrent of not being welcome- although he had heard the rumours that...  _ Nope,  _ he would not go there. He would try to stay positive today as much as one can be working significant crimes.

He reached down and patted his smoky grey coloured cat that he had aptly named  _ Bandit.  _ A little cliché but whatever.

"Wish me luck today, girl?" he gave her a good scratch under the chin, he took good care of her, as it was just the two of them.

_ Meow _

His phone started ringing in his pocket, he stood quickly- Bandit releasing an irritated sound making her displeasure of having her scratch cut short due to that infernal contraption. Nate offered her a quick smile, "Sorry girl duty calls. Detective Fick" he stated firmly in lieu of a greeting. He frantically searched for a pen and a scrap of paper, he wasn't familiar with the area yet and had to use his sat-nav to get around, it was getting a good work out.

"Nate, good mornin'. Hope you're ready for your first case? It's a good one. I'm pairin' ya with Detective Colbert, the man doesn't think he needs a partner, but he doesn't know what's good for him. He's a good officer, exceptional close rate, but he doesn't tend to play well with others.". Mike Wynn, the man, was one of the sergeants of the Oceanside PD, he was Texan and had the accent to boot. Nate clicked with him straight away. Captain Schwetje not so much. His heart sunk, he had heard rumours of Detective Colbert.

" _ Mike _ " Nate had the urge to crush something. Bandit, sensing his stress, twined herself in between his legs, she was a huge cat. He wasn't entirely sure what breed she was other than definitely some sort of large breed cat mix- she was the size a small to medium dog.

"Now Nate, I wouldn't pair you with him if I didn't think you could handle it. He's a stubborn bastard, but he needs a little softenin' around the edges, I think you could be a good complement. Brad's not so great with witnesses."

"So, in other words, he needs a baby sitter", Nate stated dryly.

"Well if you want to think of like that" the man had a way of making you do things, all he had to do was wait you out, a silent raising of an eyebrow,  _ don't be a dumbass,  _ expression- and he had you. Apparently, that translated across telecommunication lines as well.

"Argh, fine! But I expect not to be charged with murder if I become the first person to kill him via telepathy" He ran a frustrated hand down his face.

Mike chuckled, "Hey, you won't be the first person to have similar thoughts. Now I need you at..."

Mike rattled off the details, and it was undoubtedly his first murder scene at a golf club. Being from Baltimore, his cases tended to be out on the streets, homes (generally), and the odd ones in warehouses and crack dens. Yes, he has seen his fair share of the disgusting underbelly of society. Mike was also helpful in informing him of who he should expect at the scene. He once again felt like an arse at having to say thank you to a man he barely knew for helping him keep his head above water. He ended the call and braced himself against the kitchen counter.

Since his divorce, he felt out of sync, his heart in tatters. Amy completely shredded it. It has been eighteen months and was trying to move on he really was, but he wasn't the kind of person to have meaningless flings. He tried, the only time he managed to have a one night stand, he held it together until they left and then he disintegrated into a puddle of tears. He wasn't built for one night stands. He wanted a connection. He wondered if that's why Bandit filled a little hole, the one to feel  _ needed _ . They found companionship in each other.

He looked down at Bandit, she was sitting on her haunches, her tail flicking back and forth and her head tilted slightly. Looking at him like  _ what are you doing? _

"I don't know what I am doing girl", she made a noise, yawned, then turned and walked away, swishing her tail. She was such a diva of a cat. Now that he was summarily dismissed, he quickly checked her food, water and litter tray, he didn't know how long this was going to take.

He checked his watch, dammit it, he was going to be late. What a great first impression to make.

****

He rolled up to the gold course, having to flash his badge to get passed uniforms blocking off the driveway. The vultures had already caught wind of the murder and were out in full force. He huffed in annoyance, and he wondered if this case was going to be a three-ringed circus. He parked his conservative unassuming black Volvo away from the grouping of patrol cars, and the Coroner's van.

_ Okay, Nate, you can do this, put your game face on. _

Checking he had, his badge, gun, car keys and wallet, he made his way over in the sweltering heat- lamenting his decision to wear, dress pants, a button-down and tie- cursing the need to make a good impression and look professional. At the entryway, a bored-looking uniformed officer stood, clearly wishing his job was more exciting than this. The young man narrowed his eyes as Nate approached, looking over Nate until his eyes landed on the badge at Nate's hip, along with his gun. The officer lifted the police tape, letting Nate slip underneath.  _ Where the hell did he go now?  _ The body could be anywhere on the course. He wandered around the building that functioned as the 'club' until he saw two uniformed officers near a golf cart. He got closer, and they were rapping some song Nate had never heard.

"Hey" he called out, he figures they should know where the crime scene was. They noticed him and changed to a ramrod posture like they hadn't been caught red-handed. He wasn't going to discipline them, he didn't want to be a complete dick on his first day. But he usually was a stickler for the rules.

"Sir, how can we help you?" he looked at their name tags. Stafford and Christenson.

"Detective Fick, I need to get to the crime scene. Do you know what hole it was on?"

"Yo, man, we can take you there. It's all the way on hole ten, too far to walk if you don't want to miss anything" Stafford appeared to be the spokesman of the two. Perhaps Christenson was a rookie, he looked fresh.

"Your chariot awaits, Detective," Stafford said with a small flourish and curtsey. Nate snorted and rolled his eyes.

After a few minutes of navigating their way across the lush greens, Nate debated whether to glean any information from the two cops.

"Have you met Detective Colbert?" Stafford and Christenson discretely looked at each other in the mirror, they seemed to have their own form of silent communication going on.

"He cool, a scary mofo you don't want to cross. But he cares a lot about the job, you feel me?" Nate nodded, he could see the respect Brad garnered, from these two and from Mike. He thought maybe this wouldn't be as bad as he was thinking?

In the distance, he could see the grouping of people, but the crime appeared to be within the trees. Stafford pulled off to the side, and Nate got out encountering yet another bored-looking officer, but this time holding a clipboard.

"Yo dude that's Trombley, he's a little touched in the head", Nate looked to Christenson who was nodding and rotating his finger in a circle near, clearing indicating they thought he was crazy.

"Okay thanks for the heads up", he kept it polite as he was more than likely to see them again on the job, and he really needed to make connections. Otherwise, police work is impossible if no one will help you.

"No problem, sir. But..ah good luck with detective Colbert", Nate smiled and nodded heading off in the direction of Trombley.

He approached the young officer looking bored like the other out front. The difference was Trombley holding a clipboard, ready for him to sign in.

"Detective Nate Fick, OPD" he had unclipped his badge for Trombley to inspect.

"You're new, aren't you?" Trombley asked, and rather unprofessionally he might add. He made a mental note about the behaviour of the younger uniformed officers. He let this slide as well, didn't need to make waves on his first day.

"Yes, I am", he quickly scribbled his name down and badge number, which he had spent the last couple of days memorizing. Before handing it over, he scanned for Colbert's name to see how much of a head start he got. Not too bad thirty minutes, he wasn't thrilled, but it was better than an hour.

"Oh you're Detective Colbert's new partner. Good luck, I can't see you lasting that long he scares away everyone". He managed to suppress irritation. He thrust the clipboard back at Trombley, not caring if the guy dropped it or not. No...Nate was pissed, did no one think he could handle Colbert? He wasn't happy about partnering with the man, but he wasn't some simpering wallflower.

People were milling around the edge of the trees, and he correctly deduced that the body must be in there somewhere. He stopped and surveilled the surrounding area, it was close to the middle of the course, but he would have to look at a map. It would be difficult to bring a body across the course, assuming they weren't killed on site. How could you transport something bulky and heavy without it being noticed?  _ Was the- _

Nate stumbled from the impact, he struggled to take a breath.  _ God, when was the last time he was winded?  _

"Oh sorry man, I didn't see you! Oh...fuck are you alright?" Nate's eyes were watering a little, but he managed to suck in a little air.

"Yeah" he croaked out. "Just winded".

"Hi I'm Walt" Walt stuck his hand out for Nate to take, and he finally observed the man that just ploughed into him minutes ago like a semi barreling down the highway. The man Nate noticed, was young as well, baby faced, with bright blue eyes. He was wearing a lab coat and holding...  _ a butterfly net? WTF? _

"I'm Detective Nate Fick" Nate managed to straighten up without wheezing like an old man. He attempted to smooth out the crinkles in his shirt but soon realized this was a lost cause.

"Oooohhh, you're Brad's...sorry Detective Colbert's new partner. He's a tough nut to crack, the man like's to remain...aloof."

"Aloof?" Nate enquired quizically.

"Yeah! It was today's word of the day on the calendar Ray got me. I was wondering how I would work it into a conversation today, between Ray's musing on Red Bull versus caffeine tablets, and whether women's  _ vag _ -" Walt stopped speaking suddenly, eyes going wide and a sweet blush rising on his cheeks.

Nate certainly felt some second-hand embarrassment; he was again caught in a conversation that was veering into the realm of unprofessional. Was everyone in Oceanside so lax in their professionalism? Maybe it was the California air and the fact they were two inches from the surface of the sun.

"So-sorry I uh..my mouth got carried away from me, Ray must be rubbing off on me", Walt looked oddly sheepish, Nate did not want to delve too much into that.

"The crime scene?" Yes, diverting this plane wreck of a conversation back to what he should be thinking about- the crime.

Walt perked up, his eyes sparkling in thanks for the shift and not having to continue shoving his metaphorical foot in his mouth. "It's not too far…just…just this way". Walt stammered out, Nate chose a tight-lipped smile not wanting to embarrass Walt further and remain polite.

Following diligently into the tree line, he could hear voices and the crinkling of plastic. "Ah fuckin' damn it" broken by spitting noises and slight gagging, "winged bastards, fuck they are relentless!"

"Ray!" a more resonant voice snapped harshly.

"Fuck you, Bradley! The demonic insects know to stay away from you because of your blackened soul and all, but us unlucky plebians are swarmed, so if I want to bitch it's my right!" another round of coughing ensued, and Nate inwardly cringed.

Nate and Walt stood off to the side, trying not to intrude on the scene in front of them. It was grizzly, and the sheer amount of flies buzzing around the body was equally mesmerizing and disgusting. Nate thought that any moment the flies were about to establish their own zip code. He took note of the people doing an adequate job, technicians photographing the scene and surrounding area, taking evidence samples and others looking for any remaining evidence. It was well organized, despite Nate's reservations to the contrary. His eyes drifted over to where his new partner was crouched down next to the Coroner, observing everything that was being done to the supine body. He couldn't help the way the lines of the man's body was graceful, yet coiled ready to strike. 

The Coroner, a Tim "Doc" Bryan, was a serious man, a man of few words- he either respected you, or he didn't. Nate had met him when he had sought him out to introduce himself when he knew that California was his destination. He felt he earned the man's respect and in turn reciprocated as a former Navy corpsman. Nate didn't talk about his short time in the Marine Corps, but he was proud of it. Tim lifted his head to roll his shoulders, most probably aching from being bent over for so long, he noticed Nate and nodded. "Detective Fick, Sir". Nate fought the urge to blush, he hated being called sir, it was something he had never gotten used to even in the service. Brad was tense, his fist clamped shut and white-knuckled. Nate failed at first to understand the response.

"Tim", short, curt and professional; it was something that he would appreciate. Tim turned back to the body, seemingly finishing up his assessment. He barked an order for his assistant to bring over a body bag and gurney. At this, his partner, rose to his enormous height, Nate was tall, but Brad was taller. The man filled out with broad shoulders, stretching the navy cotton polo shirt, moulding perfectly over his muscles. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the man in front of him. Brad turned his head slowly to lock eyes with Nate, he was nearly knocked off his feet from the sharp, penetrating gaze.

Fury etched deep into the features of Brad's face, his blue-grey eyes, lit with anger- a hurricane waiting to release its devastation. It dawned on Nate why everyone wished him good luck, and that all the stories were true. He knew, but he didn't  _ realize _ until now. This was going to be an uphill battle- but he steeled his spine, he was a former Recon Marine Officer, and he wasn't going to back down. Brad's eyes widen a little at the small change in Nate's posture, but the turbulent emotions remained the same swirling in his eyes. This struck Nate deep in his chest, the- pain and fear- lurking beneath the anger. Maybe no one had addressed this with Brad or were too scared to. Brad was emotionally wounded, and Nate was as well, perhaps that's why he could see it so easily- he knew the look. He would have to tread carefully, wounded animals tended to lash out, and Brad would be no different, the man looked like he was itching for a fight. Nate would take up this challenge currently glaring at him, and try to help him heal.

"Glad you decided to grace us with your presence", So it was like that, was it? The venom coating the words had Nate gritting his teeth and shoving down his irritation.


End file.
